


The Kids

by wineandweens



Category: Hollywood Undead (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Drug Use, First Kiss, First Time, High School, Jealousy, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2020-05-14 09:33:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19270534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wineandweens/pseuds/wineandweens
Summary: I look alive, I'm dead inside, my heart has holes and black blood flowsWe'll do some drugs, we'll fall in love, and get fucked up while the world just shrugsEvery day had been the same day in and day out, the kids trying to make it through high school and the streets of Los Angeles.Though when a new face moves into town and into their inner circle, their typical way of life suddenly shifts.





	1. The Kids

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing an AU. To be perfectly honest, I'm not quite sure where this will be going or how often I will be updating it, but I figured I'd try something different. I originally wasn't going to post it at all, but I'm biting the bullet and forcing myself to do it. Sorry in advance!

_Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick._

Brown eyes stared up at the circular white face that hung from the blank concrete wall, it’s long black arms motionless as if they were taunting him. They _were_ taunting him. The clock ticked unbearably slow. The dark-haired boy groaned as he pulled the hood from his camouflaged hoodie up and over his head to essentially hide in, his forehead pressing into the surface of the desk. It was like cruel and unusual punishment; this modern concept called “detention”. And despite spending most of his weekdays after school in that same seat in that very classroom, it never seemed to get any easier. It was like a prison, the poor inmate trapped within his solitary confinement. And for what crime? Throwing an eraser at the back of the science substitute’s head. One hour in detention may have well been called a life sentence.

“Alright. That’s time, Mr. Decker. Grab your things; you’re free to go,” the supervisor in the front of the classroom announced, Jorel promptly picking his head up from the desk. His eyes checked the clock again, making sure his mind wasn’t playing any tricks on him; solitary was known to make men go insane, after all. “ _Thank fuck…_ ” the high school junior muttered under his own breath, rising quickly from his seat at his desk and grabbing his bag and skateboard from the floor. “Language, Mr. Decker. Would you like to spend _another_ hour in detention with me?” Tucking his skateboard underneath his arm, Jorel sighed, “No..,” shaking his head slowly and obediently. “No _what_ , Mr. Decker?” His sigh became a bit more dramatic, eyes rolling as he spoke, “No, _ma’am_.” The supervisor, one of Jorel’s usual teachers, gave a confirming nod, accepting his corrected response. “Have a good rest of your day, Mr. Decker.”

Pushing through the classroom door, Jorel took his first breath of freedom. The hallways were bare, aside from other students who partook in extracurricular activities after school; the jocks on the basketball and football team, the nerds in chess and book club, the troublemakers like him, just getting out of their little makeshift prisons. Finally able to pull his phone out of his pocket, no longer being stared down on like a hawk at its prey, he checked his unread messages; finding several from his best friend. 

_(02:34:34 PM): r we havin’ band practice tonite?_  
_(02:48:12 PM): r u in detention again?_  
_(02:50:22 PM): did we have any hw in math class?  
_ _(02:53:38 PM): im fuckin’ bored, man!!! come over after your out_

Jorel rolled his eyes. The messages were so typical of Aron, that they were painful. He was ninety-nine percent positive that he had already answered these verbally with him earlier in the day - once at lunch, and again just before school let out for the day. He swore that kid needed to go and get his head checked; it was like he was on another planet half the time. And considering how often Aron skipped class and neglected his school work, it would surely be proof of God’s existence if the senior even found himself graduating at the end of the year - not that Jay would complain if he didn’t - school would just be more painful if he didn’t have Aron there to suffer through it with him. Jorel smiled as he prepared his thumbs to answer the various questions in quicktime, the pads of his thumbs pressing to the keypad of his SideKick. 

_(03:43:13 PM): god you’re such a dumbass. jordon and dylan have basketball, george’s in book club, matt’s who the fuck knows. so no, yes, yes, and ok. in that order._

Jorel pushed through the front doors of the school, eyes squinting instantly as the hot Los Angeles sun glared down on him. _What a great day to forget to bring sunglasses_ , Jorel thought as he held his hand up to his brows, using it as a makeshift visor despite already wearing his usual snapback backwards on his head. Dropping his skateboard to the ground, he stepped on with one foot, propelling himself with the other to gain momentum. It wasn’t too far of a skate from school to home, but it was still quite a distance. It was the only option Jorel had, considering his mother worked two jobs to make due, as well as his own inability to keep a job to be able to buy a car himself; and fuck if he’d be up in time to make the bus every morning. His other friends had cars, but his house was more out of the way for it to be even logical to hitch a ride. He was just used to it, just as he was used to being chased by the cops for “disturbing the peace” while skating the boulevards, or nearly getting hit by motorists who didn’t pay attention to where they were going. It was just a typical day - nothing new, nothing different. 

Jorel headed straight to Aron’s house - which was conveniently positioned right across the street from his own. Stepping off of his skateboard and kicking it up, he tucked the board back underneath his arm as he walked the rest of the block towards Aron’s front door. Glancing across the street, Jorel watched as a moving van was positioned in the driveway of the house next door to his, boxes being loaded off and carried inside. _Looks like someone’s finally moving into that shithole_. Jorel dropped his board and bag on the porch of Aron’s home, allowing himself in through the front door. “Hi Mrs. Erlichman, bye Mrs. Erlichman!” Jorel called out as he ran up the length of the stairs, heading straight to Aron’s bedroom. 

Opening the door to Aron’s room, Jorel grinned. His friend was positioned lying down on his stomach near the edge of his bed, propped up on his elbows with a Nintendo controller in hand. Large headphones covered his ears, his dark shaggy-like hair going in different directions, one of his hands occasionally pushing the longer strands out of his face. Aron’s eyes were glued to the old television screen, the tip of his tongue poking out at the corner of his lips as he tried to recover that last Triforce shard. He obviously didn’t even notice Jorel come in. Getting a running start, Jorel jumped to the bed, landing on the surface beside Aron with a heavy thud. “Shit!” Aron jumped in surprise, Nintendo controller falling right out of his hands and to the floor. “You scared me, fucker!” Aron whined, tearing his headphones off of his head in order to allow them to dangle from his neck. He reached out his arm, hand clenching into a loose fist to punch Jorel in the upper arm. “Look out,” Jorel laughed, pointing to the screen, just in time for Aron to watch Link meet his final demise. Game over. 

“Damnit, Jay!” Aron groaned, grabbing a pillow from the top of the bed to smack against his friend. Making a face, Jorel moved and rolled over in order to lay down on his back next to Aron, sighing as he looked up at the ceiling. Aron scooted closer to Jay, looking down at him. “What were you in for this time?” Jorel wrinkled his nose, “Hitting the sub with an eraser. I was aiming for Matt. His head’s the size of a melon and I still missed.” Aron chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re going to get suspended one of these days if you keep all that shit up,” he smiled, hand reaching up to swipe at his hair again, a constant movement that occurred every few minutes. “And you’re not going to graduate if you keep skipping class,” Jorel retorted, Aron only giving a sly smile. “What’s wrong? You _misssss_ me?” Aron teased, leaning his head down playfully to make kissy noises in front of Jay’s face. Jorel snorted, reaching a hand up to press against the other’s shoulder, pushing Aron back. “Remind me why I hang out with you again?” 

Hearing a slamming noise coming from outside, Aron turned his attention towards the window, Jorel also moving to sit up, looking out at the moving van that had been emptied and closed up. “I was watching them earlier. Some kid and his mom. He looked around our age,” Aron shrugged, Jorel remaining silent as he continued to watch out the window, the new neighbor, assuming the mother, coming into view. Though despite their best efforts from Aron’s small window, the pair still wasn’t able to get the best view from their vantage point. “You’ve been watching them? Fuckin’ creep,” Jorel playfully accused, shifting where he sat when the kid that Aron mentioned emerged from the house; it wasn’t too often that someone new came on the block. The boy, who did appear to look around their age as Aron said, had short brown hair, wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a loose t-shirt. He was thin, though not nearly as thin as Aron, but had a decent build for a teenager. _A bit good looking too - at least he didn’t have to live next to a gremlin_. Grabbing something from the back of the other vehicle in the driveway, they watched as the boy carried a guitar case into the house, Jorel’s study of his new next door neighbor then coming to its brief end. “He looks weak.” Aron chuckled as he noticed Jorel watching,“He won’t last long on our streets.” 

“Should we teach ‘im the ropes?” Jay finally voiced up, Aron raising a brow as he looked back to Jorel, his friend’s eyes finally meeting his after concluding his gaze out the window. “What? No. Let ‘im drown. I mean, we all had to before learning how to survive.” Jorel shook his head, brown eyes rolling at Aron’s quick and harsh response. “What’s wrong, Aron? Jealous that I might find a new best friend?” Jorel’s words caused Aron to slightly frown, though able to perk himself up moments later, moving back closer to Jay’s side. “Yeah, like that’ll ever happen. You’re stuck with me, Decker.” “Unfortunately,” Jorel muttered, smiling just before the pillow struck his face again. 

“Dick!” Jorel laughed as he grabbed the pillow from Aron’s hands, tossing it off of the bed. The teenagers wrestled, until one pinned the other; Jorel didn’t have to put in much effort, considering Aron weighed ten pounds. “I’m fuckin' serious, dude. Let’s not get involved with that kid. There’s enough guys in our crew,” Aron sighed as he looked up at Jay. He wasn’t quite sure why, but he had a bad feeling about the new kid on the street. Aron wasn’t really one to like change, anyway. Besides, things were perfectly fine the way they were. “Relax, dude. It’s not like it’s a big deal,” Jorel reassured, his hands on Aron’s arms loosening after their playful tussle. The older friend pouted as he looked up at Jorel, his best attempt to strike him with a face the other couldn’t be able to say _no_ to. Aron always thought he was a pro at mustering up the classic ‘puppy dog’ look; usually he just looked stupid instead. For his sake, however, his best friend just played along. “No, fuck, not the face. Alright, alright, _fiiine_ ,” the younger man groaned. Aron’s smile returned instantly, switching back on like a toddler would after feigning a cry or tantrum. Jorel rolled his eyes at Aron’s ever changing moods and personalities; it was something he was used to ever since meeting him at such a young age, however sometimes it was scary just how bipolar he was. 

“Thanks, homie,” Aron muttered, nearly shyly, hiding his teeth behind his lips. The two paused for a moment. There was silence. Licking his lips, Aron slowly leaned his head forward; Jorel raised a brow, leaning his head back and away from his advancing friend. “What are you doing?” the younger asked, Aron instantly freezing and pulling away. “N-nothing!” he stuttered, playing it cool as he sat upright from where he laid, making a stretching motion with his arms before laying back down on his back. “Okay…” Jorel murmured cautiously while rolling off to the side, settling down beside his best friend. Allowing his head to tilt off to the side, Aron mentally kicked himself. _Fuck, how embarrassing_. That was way too close. Why did he suddenly feel the need to kiss the guy? Not like it would be too weird or anything; after all, Jordon and George were best friends and did that shit all the time. So, why couldn’t they? It’s not like he _like liked _the guy after being best friends for so long. _Right?_ __

____

____

“Hey, Jay?” Aron muttered quietly, Jorel tilting his head in a silent response. Aron blushed slightly, shifting a bit as he sat up from being on his back, his elbows propping himself up from behind. “What is it?” Jorel asked verbally this time, brows furrowing. “Can I...copy that math homework?” Groaning with a laugh, Jorel grabbed a second pillow, shoving it over Aron’s face before pretending to smother his best friend right then and there.


	2. It All Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I blinked and three months went by since I last updated this. Sorry about that! While I don't promise that it won't happen again, I'll try to make sure it doesn't! Thank you everyone who has given kudos and comments so far - hopefully you've stuck around during this mini hiatus of mine.

Jorel groaned, rolling onto his belly. “Fuck off…” he muttered against his pillow, holding his eyes closed tightly as he endured the anguish of waking. The light from morning shined through the broken blinds, making it _that_ much harder to drift back off. Jorel pulled the pillow out from underneath his head, plopping it over his head to block out the unwelcomed blare of daylight. “Much better…” the teen yawned, smiling to himself as he started dozing once more, a stuffy snore exhaling from his nose after just a few moments. 

Squeaky wheels and brakes from a large yellow vehicle faintly sounded from outside. The squeaking came to a complete stop, the grumbling of the engine continuing from its standstill position. It waited. After a minute, the squeaking sounded again, rolling on down the poor suburban road. 

“ _Fuck_! It’s Tuesday!” 

Jorel quickly jumped out of bed, tripping out of the sheets and onto his feet. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Still dressed in his pair of cargo shorts and tank top from the day before, Jay hopped on one foot as he frantically pulled on his Vans, practically running out of his messy bedroom. He brushed his fingers forward through his dark hair, the digits acting as a makeshift brush for those in a hurry. Grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder, Jorel made a dash for the front door, swinging it open to find the bus far beyond his home. “God damnit!”

It has been  0  many days since the last missed school bus.

Groaning, Jorel entered back into the house, dropping his bag to the floor. At least now, he had a little bit of time to take a piss and brush the overnight grime from his mouth before leaving - he was already going to be late so it really made no difference how much later he would be once he got to school. He changed his clothes, or moreso, changed his shirt, and applied some deodorant, trying to at least put some effort into looking and smelling like a functioning human being. What was the appropriate amount of days for wearing the same pair of underwear? Jorel pulled his phone from his pocket, already receiving _“Where are you?”_ texts from Aron.

_(06:43:30 AM): where the fk r u?_  
_(07:10:23 AM): missed the bus, dude._  
_(07:14:44 AM): again damn u fking dumbass_  
_(07:15:02 AM): jk ily can i copy your test in math today?_

Jorel shook his head; Aron was always so endearing with his words. Pocketing his phone, he recollected his things and headed out on skateboard, making the trek for another day in hell. He only had to avoid being hit by one vehicle, a personal record, Jorel flipping a finger in response. 

\---

Tucking his skateboard under his arm and against his side, Jorel slipped through the front doors, making his best attempt to sneak past the front office. _Quietly, Jay. You can do this. Just one slow tip-toe after the other…_

“Where do you think you’re going, Mr. Decker?” a voice called out from the office doorway, arms crossed in front of her chest and tapping her foot impatiently to the epoxy flooring. _Busted._ When the whole front office and faculty knew you by name - well, it wasn't exactly something to be necessarily proud about. Jorel froze in his tracks, groaning as he turned to face the student-oppressor. 

“Look, I missed the—” Jorel began, only to have a hand held up to dismiss his excuse. “You know more than anyone that you must check in with attendance when you are tardy to class, Mr. Decker,” he was hastily corrected. Jorel opened his mouth to talk back, though quickly closed it, thinking otherwise; he really did not want to spend another afternoon in detection for calling an administrator a royal bitch. Hanging his head, Jorel took the green mile into the front office, sitting down in an unoccupied chair to wait his turn to talk to the attendance teacher. A brunet stood in front of the attendance desk, nervously stroking the strap of his bookbag.

“I’m not… I’m not really sure where I’m supposed to go,” he spoke softly, keeping his hazel eyes dropped to the floor, his beat-up Chuck Taylors kicking at the cheap carpeting inside the office. Jorel wrinkled his nose as he watched the new student, not able to keep himself from pre-judging. _Damn, kid seems like a wimp._ Jorel took a closer look. _Wait. Have I seen him from somewhere...?_

“Oh, Jorel Decker! Perfect timing - you’d be perfect for the job!” Jorel quickly looked up when he heard his name, blinking out of his internal thoughts. The attendance teacher peered around the shy student, waving him over in their direction. _Oh god, no._ “Come here, Mr. Decker,” the older man waved again, giving a grin. Jorel hesitated, sneering as he sat up from his natural slump. “You called?” Jorel responded, keeping a large gap between him and the mystery student, not even giving him a second glance. His arm tightly held onto his skateboard, his other hand dipped into the deep pocket of his shorts. 

“Daniel, this is Jorel. Jorel, say ‘hello’ to Daniel - Daniel Murillo. He’s new here to Hollywood High.” Danny flinched, hastily moving and holding his hand out to shake hands with Jorel. “Uh, hi?” Jay raised a brow, looking down at the hand before looking straight back to the authoritative figure ahead of them. “You’re going to be showing Daniel around the school today, Jorel,” the male smiled. Jorel shook his head, holding a hand out in a defensive position. “Oh no, Mr. Phillips, I can’t—” He was interrupted again. “Here is Daniel’s schedule. I’ll let your teacher know you’re helping us out... you know, to avoid a final tardy warning,” Mr. Phillips raised his brows, holding out a piece of paper that listed out teacher names, subjects and classroom numbers. Jorel heavily sighed, taking the paper. _Well, if it keeps me from getting out of detention…_ “Have a good day, gentlemen,” Mr. Phillips tapped a stack of heavy papers against his desk, his way of subtly dismissing them away. 

“C’mon, let’s go,” Jorel huffed, turning and leaving the office, not waiting on the new student. Daniel quickly scurried after, catching up to his temporary chaperone. Jorel looked down at the schedule in his hands, scanning what the student had. “We have at least three classes together, including home room.” Jorel informed, quite bluntly. Daniel just nodded. Turning his head, Jorel raised a brow. “You talk or what?” he asked, the new student flinching in response. “Y-yeah, I talk,” the brunet responded softly, keeping his eyes to the floor as they walked. Jorel shook his head. _Damn, this kid’s gonna get chewed up, spit out, chewed again, and shit out in no time._

“Your chemistry class is down that hall and on the left,” Jorel signaled, pointing in one direction, “…your history class is upstairs, down the center hall and to the right. Oh man, that sucks - your teacher’s a real fuckin’ bitch.” Jorel was pointing in every which way, Daniel’s head whishing from side to side. He had never been on a tour of a whole school that was executed solely in one single spot. 

Jorel finally led him to a door nearby - an actual door. “And this is our home room. This is where you’ll go first once you get to school, you got all that, kid?” Danny frowned, but nodded his head. Jorel furrowed his brows. “Dude, just follow the numbers on the doors. It’s not that hard.” Jorel pulled the door to their shared home room open, so many faces of students looking from their desks and staring at the pair as they emerged into the room. Jorel was completely used to it; Danny nearly cowered. 

An average-sized brown-haired student stood from the back row of desks, flailing his arms in the air. “Yo, J-Dog!” the student yelled out obnoxiously, giving a wave in Jorel’s direction, “Who’s the new _boyfriend_?!” The class immediately roared in laughter; Danny’s face immediately turned a bright shade of red. “Hey, fuck you, man!” Jorel stepped further into the classroom, smacking his friend upside the head before sitting down in the empty desk beside him. “Jordon...inside voice. Jorel…language,” the exhausted teacher sighed from her desk, obviously not having ingested enough coffee that morning to deal with the uproar. Danny swiftly moved to an empty desk in the front, sinking into his shoulders; maybe if he sagged down enough, he’d shrink and disappear. 

“Ah, yes, that’s right. We have a new student today,” the tired teacher announced, finally moving from her desk chair to walk over to Daniel’s desk. “Daniel, would you like to stand up and introduce yourself to the class? Maybe tell us something interesting that makes you, well, you?” Daniel shook his head, feeling eyes piercing through him. “Oh, come now, Daniel - don’t be shy!” 

Daniel took a deep breath, sliding out of his chair and standing up. He never once looked up at his new classmates, his hand anxiously rubbing at his forearm. “I’m, uh, Danny, and…” he paused and shrugged his shoulder. “That’s about it.” He sat back down. “And…?” the teacher happily prodded with a smile, using her hands to signal him to stand back up. Danny moved to stand back up. “And…” 

Danny paused again, finally looking up at his classmates. He watched as they stared, a few students whispered to each other; were they talking about him? “I’m Danny, that’s all,” Danny blurted out one final time, quickly taking his seat. A few students laughed, the teacher frowning and surrendering. “Okay… well, we’re all happy to have you, Danny. Maybe we will get to learn a little bit more about you within the next few months. Now class, a few announcements before bell—,” she carried on.

Jordon leaned over across the thin aisle between desks, whispering in Jorel’s direction. “Fuck, bro. That kid’s gonna get chewed up, spit out, chewed again, and shit out in no time.” Jorel nodded his head, taking a glance at the new student in the front of the room. “Yep.” 

Jorel put on his headphones to wait for the morning bell to sound, Slayer's 'Reign in Blood' filling his ears. Glancing up, he looked back over to Danny, who was nearly on the floor from slumping in his chair. He tilted his head to the side, narrowing his brown eyes, as if he was trying to get a better look at the brunet from the distance. He couldn’t help but feel bad for the guy; despite his cold attitude towards him. _What was his problem? What was he all about?_ It was then when it suddenly dawned on Jorel: it was the boy he and Aron saw through the window.


	3. Everybody Just Relax!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it has taken me a bit of time to update this again but at least it hasn't been quite as long as it took last time! I'm honestly shocked each time I receive an AO3 email saying I am still getting kudos on this thing. Despite the slow updating, I appreciate the support everyone has shown on it! As long as you are still enjoying it, I will continue updating it.
> 
> Slightly shorter chapter but hope you enjoy in any case. Thanks!

“And then I said—get this, and then I said: ‘Yo, J-Dog! _Who’s the new boyfriend_?!’ Holy shit, man...Jay’s face was fuckin’ hilarious! You should’ve been there!” Jordon paused, shoving half a school lunch cheeseburger into his mouth. “And _then_ —hey, George! Are you even listening to me?” Jordon blabbered on, nudging George by the upper arm, trying to regain his attention. 

“Yeah. Good one, Jord,” the upperclassman sighed, finally acknowledging his friend. He rolled his crystal blue eyes as he kept his nose shoved into the binding of his favorite book, John Milton’s _Paradise Lost_. “Why do I even hang out with you?” George muttered under his breath, giving a shake his head; he licked the pad of his index finger, carefully turning the platinum white page to the next. There wasn’t a single crease on the paper; the book kept in near mint condition. He looked up past the hardback in his hands, giving the victim of Jordon’s childish teasing a sympathetic look from across the table. “Because you can’t get enough of me!” Jordon responded, wrapping his arms tightly around George’s more muscular one. George had to keep in tip-top physical shape - he was captain of the wrestling team, after all. “God, I hate you,” George groaned, attempting to shake the annoying brunet off. Charlie only squeezed tighter. “I could snap you in two, you know!”

Jorel rolled his eyes, picking and playing with the food (which resembled much like cardboard) on his tray. Despite the attitude he gave off, he never could take Jordon’s teasing seriously; it was too hard to, especially considering the fact that Jordon usually acted like an idiot three-fourths of the day; they were just used to it by now. He was even _worse_ when put together with Dylan - whom Jay was thankful was seemingly absent for lunch - otherwise he’d never hear the end of it. “All in favor of voting Jordon out of the table?” Jorel proposed, holding a hand up to count ‘ayes’ and ‘nays’. George’s hand shot up immediately after, causing Jordon to whine out. “Wha! You two are no fuckin’ fun!” Jordon pouted, his lower lip protruding outward. 

George let out a snort, finally closing his book after reaching the end of the chapter. He placed the book down on the bench beside him, keeping it clear from where it could get dirty... AKA far away from Jordon. “Then stop giving us reasons to, ya’ dipshit,” George smiled and reached out, putting an arm around Jordon’s shoulders and roughly tugging him into his side. Jordon’s chubby cheeks blushed a bright pink, the sophomore pushing himself out of George’s half-embrace. “George, you know that’s for _after_ -school!” Matt, sitting beside them, coughed as he chewed on his rubbery hotdog. “God, you two are so gay. Some of us are trying to eat here, y’know,” he snarled. Jordon’s grin turned a bit more sinister. “Says the dude choking on a fuckin’ wiener!” George and Jorel let out matching groans - thus started the beginning of the daily Jordon vs Matthew lunchtime showdown. 

While Jordon and Matt went at it and George attempted to keep the peace, Jorel simply sighed and looked around the lunch room. It was filled with the usual chattering students, each clique staking claim at their ‘assigned’ tables. The jocks sat in the middle of the lunch room, surrounded by the cheerleaders and their flavors of the day. There were the brainiacs and art students, the metalheads and stoners, the anime and theatre nerds - and not to mention the band kids. _What really did happen at band camp?_  


Off to the very end of the lunch room, closest to the doors, Danny sat. His table was completely empty, the new student picking at a sandwich that was obviously packed and made up by his parent. Jorel couldn’t help but to frown, actually feeling kind of bad for the kid. He didn’t seem like that bad of a guy when he ‘showed’ him around school that morning, despite not giving him much time of day. Though Jorel couldn’t relate, he was sure being the ‘new kid,’ especially at their age, wasn’t exactly the easiest. _Maybe I should go over and invite him to sit with us..._

“Who are you looking at?” a voice shook Jorel out of his thoughts, his gaze breaking from the loner to settle on the familiar face of... Aron? “Oh,” Jorel sounded, blinking his brown eyes to focus on the now much closer target. “N-no one.” He looked past Aron again, just... watching. All he could bring himself to do was watch; watch how Danny moved, watch how Danny recoiled from reality around him. Jorel couldn’t help but recall the introduction incident in home room; how damaged the kid seemed to be. There had to be more to ‘Just Danny’ than just an anti-social boy who was new in town. But what could it be? The worst part was: Jorel didn’t even know why he found himself so fucking fascinated by the new student next door. 

“Earth to Jay!” Aron waved a hand in front of Jorel’s face, the junior snapping back to reality once again. “He’s just looking at his boyfriend, Aron, sheesh,” Jordon chimed in, immediately gaining Aron’s interest. “Boyfr—what? Who?” Aron whipped his head back and forth from Jordon to Jorel, confusion settling in. " _Jay's got a boyfriend! Jay's got a boyfriend!_ ," Jordon sang out, banging his fists against the table to a made up beat. “Dude.” Jorel shook his head, “Just...shut the fuck up, Jord!” Jorel glared his eyes at his loud-mouthed friend, tossing his carton of milk in his direction. Jordon yipped and ducked, the milk falling to the floor beside him and abruptly combusting. Splatters of milk flew, landing and damaging the precious aged cover of _Paradise Lost_. George’s blues twitched and bulged, the event seemingly playing out in slow motion right before his eyes. “Alright! That’s it!” George smacked the tabletop with his palms, hastily sitting up from the bench. Jordon yelped when the back of his collar was tugged, George pulling him up from his seat. “I didn’t do it! It was Jorel! It’s Jorel’s fault!” Jordon pleaded his case, George having no part of it. “ _Someone’s_ gotta shut you up once and for all!” George tucked the milk-stained book under his arm, his other hand gripping Jordon tightly by the clothes. He dragged Jordon out of the lunch room, only for the prankster to meet his ultimate fate under George’s wrath. 

All was suddenly silent at the lunch table, but the silence only lasted for mere seconds.

“...Boyfriend?” Aron asked again, “I mean, not that I _care_ or anything,” he then added, not wanting to sound… jealous. “No! Jordon’s an idiot, dude. You know that. Besides, I don't even _like_ guys... in that way,” Jorel stated, looking back over in Danny’s direction. The events of exploding milk cartons and George’s intimidating yelling caused attention amongst the other students, the tables, including Danny, looking over in their immediate direction. Jorel and Danny’s eyes found each other and met, Jay quickly turning and looking away. _Or... at least I don't think I do?_

This time, Aron noticed. “ _That_ kid? The new kid?” Aron blatantly accused, Jorel raising a brow. “What the hell, Aron, I don’t even know the guy.” Aron furrowed his brows, looking over at the new student and neighbor in pure disdain; as if he was a bug that had to be squashed and displaced as soon as possible. “Then why are you _staring_ at him, then?” Aron bit back. “There’s... milk in my hair,” Matt whined as his fingers raked through his unruly curls, cringing at the wet liquid that painted the dark strands in white. He could already feel some less impacted strands drying, crusting and hardening together. 

“I never took you to be some kind of faggot,” Aron muttered, not fully thinking about the words that were coming out of his mouth and being directed towards his best friend; he was easily worked up if there was something he clearly didn't like. The remaining lunch table went quiet again. Jorel’s eyes lit on fire, the junior nearly speechless at the words that came out of Aron's mouth. “Yeah, a faggot. Look who's talkin'. After all, you tried to fuckin' _kiss_ me yesterday!” 

“Whoa! Kiss? Wait - what?” Matt’s large blue eyes slowly moved between the two friends. _What is actually going on right now?_ The curly-haired drummer found himself utterly confused, hearing much more than he ever wanted to hear between all of his buddies and band mates in _one_ day. Did he smoke some of Dylan's shitty weed again and not realize it? He had to be tripping. “I-I didn’t - I mean, what - no. That’s not what I was doing,” Aron stuttered, defended himself. He reached down for Matt’s tray, stealing the uneaten apple and gripping it tightly in his fist. Matt blinked, holding up an index finger. “Uh, that’s my apple.”

“I told you to stay away from him. But you know what? Fine. I fuckin’ warned ya!” Aron turned and stomped off, in typical Aron fashion. Jorel watched Aron, his jaw hinged open. _What the actual fuck? Did Aron already know Danny?_ Now he had questions. “Aron! Get back here, damnit!” Jorel yelled after his friend, grabbing his skateboard and chasing Aron down on foot. Matt sat at the now completely empty table, trash and trays and spilled milk surrounding him. “Can’t everybody just… relax?” he muttered to himself, digging his face into his palms and sighing. He looked back up, staring at his empty lunch tray. “And that's _still_ my apple!”


End file.
